


The Ballad of Aloy and Nil

by Atlantay



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game), Horizon: Zero Dawn - Frozen Wilds
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Frozen Wilds, Romance, Slow Burn, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-10-18 10:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17579528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlantay/pseuds/Atlantay
Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle for the Spire, Aloy has once again vanished in thin air, eventually following strange rumours into the Cut, where one last Bandit Camp awaits. And with it, a favourite companion.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, first-time poster here. English isn't my first language, so every correction and of course feedback is highly appreciated!   
> I just love me some Aloy/Nil. I'm such a sucker for poetic psychopaths. And those silver eyes.  
> Attention: Spoilers ahead for both Zero Dawn and Frozen Wilds! This will be no retelling of the add-on's Main Quest, following it only loosely.

I was trekking towards that last lone bandit fort, tapping into my focus to assess my surroundings, when a well-known name and figure were highlighted.  _Nil_ . 

I tried to quell the annoying stutter of my heart, my feelings of excitement and fear and mad, mad hope, and fought against two opposite instincts – rushing towards him or fleeing him as fast as I could.

Instead, I measuredly made my way towards him, wary of a trap, not sure I could trust him. I could, couldn’t I? His help on the Ridge had been invaluable, and the more I had thought about it, the surer I had become that it had been his arrow, his deadly mark, that had saved my life when I had been ambushed by three of the Eclipse. He would probably have denied it - just as he had denied helping me for any other reasons than being able to kill without consequences. He had denied having a conscience, but still, he had helped. And two small, small words had given me hope. “Fine company” – that was a high compliment coming from a man who obviously didn’t like company at all.

And he was alive, so so alive! I hadn’t been sure, having seen or heard nothing of him in the aftermath of the storm against Meridian. Granted, I hadn’t stayed long enough to make myself sure of that. I had fled the grand, crowded, battered city and all those people at the first chance, leaving neither word nor clue as to where I was headed.

 

Nil was standing at a small cliff, staring at the fort in the distance, turning around to me smiling his feral grin as I neared. “Aloy”, he practically purred, his word a caress of my name. My innards clenched, and once again I had to fight my instinct to just run away. The other instinct was to fling my arms around his neck and drown myself in him. I did neither, but stood next to him, facing the fort and managing a small nod into his general direction. 

I was reminded of our last meeting, where he had greeted me with my name, and to my chagrin had added that he had learned that name from the Carja, not from me. Why had I never bothered to tell him, to introduce myself? I felt I had treated him like a passerby, a stranger, not important enough to gift him a pause in my powerful stride, in my never relenting hunt for answers, for moments of peace, for retribution, for righteous and much-needed deeds. Over the years I had cumulated many, many regrets, but that one was always in the forefront. Would things have gone differently if I hadn’t always been wary, cautious around him? 

Still, I had been right to be suspicious, hadn’t I? He had wanted to kill me, calling it the sweetest possible victory. He had never denied being a killer, had never hidden his relish in taking lives. Why shouldn’t he try to take mine?

Yet, he had honor – twisted honor, granted – and a moral code, though I wouldn’t try to understand it. He had wanted to best me in fair fight, and when I denied that to him, my heart broken, had let me leave unhindered. He had even come to my aid against the Eclipse later, even though he had declined my plea before.

 

“Nil.” I wanted to say so much and ask even more questions but feared that once the dam had broken, there was no stopping the flood of words that lay on the tip of my tongue. So I remained silent, intent on scrutinizing the fort with the aid of my focus.

“At least 24 bandits, two or three hostages, I think the leader is strutting around with a flame thrower..?”, I recounted my findings to Nil. Better not converse with him, better just go in for the kill. It would be easier just fighting alongside him, not facing him, not talking to him, not looking into his strange, singular silver eyes and all too handsome face, not smelling the intoxicating scent of his, an odd mixture of sweet licorice root that he was often chewing for fresh breath and clean white teeth, of coppery old blood and the fragrant pine oil he often applied. He even still smelt like the desert he habitually trekked through, though we were as far away from the arid, hot climates as humanly possible.

My fingers itched for the fight. Fighting in unison with Nil was like a dancing a duet to a deadly tune, it had always felt effortless and exhilarating orchestrating our kills. I did despise killing now even more than before, but it had always felt so  _good_ fighting alongside him, so  _right_ and invigorating. I had never felt more alive than with him, which was strange, because I was a hunter of machines - this was the thing I excelled at, and not killing human beings. I hated smelling the blood spilt, hear wet thuds and piercing shrieks, seeing the light of life leaving my opponents eyes. I did it because someone had to, and I was good at it, but I did not enjoy it. 

Nil did, however. He lived for killing, it seemed to be his single purpose. It had hurt each time, seeing that enthusiastic sheen in his beautiful eyes evoked only by carnage. Never by me. I was envious of dead people. I envied death itself for the effect it had on Nil. Still, I longed for him, pined for him, secretly hoped that he would show up, though never admitting that to myself. And now he was here. How? I knew the why – he wanted to kill, and here was a long lost opportunity.

I had not forgotten his wistful sadness when we had cleared the last fort of them all, being bereft of such a convenient way to kill. I could still see his face when he reasoned for his showing up on the Ridge, in the calm before the storm on Meridian and the Spire. Finally he could kill again without fearing retribution. His face had lit up with unholy glory, and my heart had ached even more than before. I had tried to wipe him from my mind, to banish him from my heart after his insane, hurtful proposal above the mesa. Of course, I had expected a trap, but silently, secretly, I had hoped for something else entirely. I believe I have come to understand his proposal, but I could not condone it nor stop feeling hurt, betrayed even. And sad, so sad and pitiful for his obvious, blatant wish for death. Mayhap he had really believed he could best me, kill his most formidable foe yet, but the other possibility of succumbing to me had been as dear to him. He would have welcomed both with open arms. I denied him either, and to my anger even felt remorse to have denied him what he wished for most. But the cost would have been one of the two lives mattering most to myself – his or my own. I feared he deemed himself unworthy to live and was now glad that he saw enough worth in himself, or enough purpose, not to commit suicide. Obviously he sustained by his twisted honor and by killing bandits and the like.

I had believed we shared something special, more than just a common goal for very different motives, more than just one single interest. But I had been fooled, or rather had fooled myself. Of course Nil would never value anything higher than a kill. It was sad, really, for I could see there was much more to him. However, he saw himself as an arrow aimed at only one target, honed for one purpose.  _Where the arrowhead passes between armor and skin – that’s the place I belong._

It was strange how my memories worked. Of the mad dash between the Nora Proving and the storm on the Spire, most memories were hazy, unclear, but those few meetings with Nil were clear as crystal and as blinding. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smooth-talking Nil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I got Nil right! There are only so many bloody metaphors I myself can come up with. What do you think?  
> What about Aloy? I painted her a bit more angsty than in the game, but she still is my favourite Mary Sue, wise beyond her years.

The everlasting cold began to creep into my bones, so I asked: “Shall we?”, a slight tremor in my voice. We would fight together for one last time, and after that, come what may. I would savor of this what I could, and afterwards once more try to erase him from my thoughts.

“No.”, he answered with decision. Surprised, I looked up to him, realizing with a start that he was so very near to me, staring at me with intent eyes.

This was a first, him not wanting to plow headfirst in battle, and not asking for me to lead, as he had requested every time we fought together.

“Good things come to those who wait. I’ve waited for you for so long, no hurt in waiting a few moments more.” He gifted me a lopsided grin that did nod reach his silver eyes though. He spoke very silently, as if in reverie, his voice a singsong like of those hakawatis on the market, telling stories to young and old alike, weaving beautiful dreams and tapestry only by words and sounds.  
“You dealt me a second arrow, even crueler than the first, when you left without a word and trace after the end of the world and rebirth of a new one. The sun shone upon a fresh, bloodied morning, and you were gone. None saw you leave, none knew where you were headed. For four months, nothing was heard of you. No new tale of great heroism or reckless abandon, of blood spilt or machines conquered. Some believed you dead or lost. Avad even sent people to search for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and I had to suppress a laugh, wiping my brow in slight embarrassment. Nil grinned too. I felt my face grew hot. He was so devastatingly handsome it hurt - my chest tightened and grew wide at the same time. How had I ever fooled myself I was beyond longing for him? 

 

“And then, a rumor from the Cut. I came and looked and found traces, but not you. But then I heard of this den of scum”, he gestured towards the fort, “and I knew, if you were still in the Cut, you could not resist. Your urge to meddle and mend is as strong as mine to take lives.” He aimed his toothy predator grin at me, making my chest ache. “Eventually you would come. You came. And I’ve got my second chance – this time I will not let it slip.”

I was dumbfounded: “Wh-what? A second chance? For what? To kill me?” I didn’t really believe that, but I could not pretend to understand him. He was a mystery. A very compelling, fascinating, enchanting mystery. A scary, strange riddle.

Nil snorted a humorless laugh. “Yes, you have to think that of me, don’t you?” It sounded wistful, not accusatory, still I felt a need to retaliate: “Who could take that amiss? All you ever speak about is death and killing, and you even admitted that you wanted to kill me or die trying!” I wanted to say more, but I was at a loss for words that would not break something or create another thing. I felt stupid tears prickle in my eyes and blinked them away angrily. After all this time, it had almost been a year since that day on the mesa, it still hurt like on the first day.

Nil stood motionless, silent, his intent gaze still locked unto my face, while I fought for composure. It had been stupid, childish, egoistic to wish for more, and still those wishes were not to be quenched. I felt anger and intense longing, confusion and dread. I truly did not want to kill him. I wasn’t sure I could, even to defend my own life. No, that wasn’t true. I would kill him if I had to, and rue that for the rest of my life. Again, tears welled. “What do you want, Nil?”, I choked out, wanting to get over with this whole ridiculous, sordid story. I crossed my arms as a barrier against him, brushing his fur coat and cold flesh beneath. It sent an electric current through my whole body, as if I had been shocked by a Stormbird.

He still wore his stupid, minimalistic armor vest that protected against nothing else than maybe a sunburn on the shoulders, and I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. His recklessness and stubbornness was exasperating and endearing at the same time. It was stupidity of me to love him for stupidities of his, but it could not be helped – I had tried to bury, to drown, to throttle my feelings for him to no avail.

Nil was standing so close, too close, yet I was rooted to the spot.

“I’ve long since realized that killing you would not only bereave this world of a thing of rare and raw beauty but also bereave myself of my single un-spoilt source of content. Now I know - you yourself are not un-spoilt, not untouched by weaknesses or faults, but those defects render you all the more beautiful, like crimson pearls of blood upon virginal white snow.”

My already pink, wind-chilled face burned crimson at those tender, soft-spoken words. They were poetic, but not artificial, not intended to woo, but to explain. Woo me they did, however. He called me beautiful, and the morbid comparison was so much like Nil.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes open up to each other.

"Now I know - you yourself are not un-spoilt, not untouched by weaknesses or faults, but those defects render you all the more beautiful, like crimson pearls of blood upon virginal white snow.”

My already pink, wind-chilled face burned crimson at those tender, soft-spoken words. They were poetic, but not artificial, not intended to woo, but to explain. Woo me they did, however. He called me beautiful, and the morbid comparison was so much like Nil. I begun to feel lightheaded, not getting enough oxygen, so I gasped in the cold mountain air. I felt like an adolescent again, and was propelled back into a long-lost memory of my mooning over pretty young men frolicking half-naked in a freezing mountain creek.

 

Nil’s next words brought me back to the present. “So no, I don’t want to kill you. In contrary, I plead for a second chance to do right. I let slip my first chance after that battle for Meridian. I knew where to find you, but I didn’t go. And then you were gone. I let it go, assuming you would soon come back.” He shrugged, a strangely youthful, innocent gesture more befitting a boy than a hardened killer. “You didn’t. I remained near that infernal city for two weeks, waiting for you, and of course, when I finally went searching for you, your trail was long cold and gone. So, wherever have your travels taken you?”

That was a first, too. Nil had never asked questions about me or my doings, nor had he answered my many questions overtly, expertly evading direct answers instead, reverting in his gruesome poetics.

When I thought of a possible, correct but short answer, the weight of the past settled on my shoulders again, making my chest hurt with constriction. I heaped a sigh, shook my head and tried: “Long story short, I visited the grave of the woman who gave life to me. She spent her last days in a place a month’s ride from here. I stayed for a while to heal and rest. After that, I returned to my childhood home and visited my foster father’s grave. That’s when I heard strange new rumors about the Cut. So I came here.” – “I would be honored if you told me the long story. Who is your mother? I never heard of her, only the garbled nonsense the Nora spread, you being born by a mountain.” – “In a way, it’s true. I was given life by machines inside the mountain. I was born from no womb and fathered by no man.”

Nil seemed intrigued; curiosity picked, but not incredulous as Avad had been when I had last tried to explain. My companion's ever present enigmatic half-smile grew into a full one, a merry sprinkle in his eyes: “Yet another example of your uniqueness. So, you are neither one of us nor of them.” – “I would like to be one of someone”, I admitted quietly, that old ache coming back. How I would love to belong, to be ordinary, to not stand out. But that was a futile hope. I stood out wherever I went, and not only because of my hair. Nil lay a light hand on my shoulder. “Perhaps you are of everyone, then. You toil for everyone. You risk your life for everyone who asks, you work yourself away for their plights.” I shrugged but felt warmth creep into my heart due to his kind words, spoken so matter-of-factly. Nil squeezed my upper arm lightly and let go. I felt the loss of contact keenly.

 

“While searching for you, I came across so many folks who relied on you, and you did not disappoint. Everywhere I went, there were people to sing your praises. Each settlement would gladly welcome you back. Granted, they would prey on your kindness and meekness, as they did before, but they would tumble over each other in their haste to make you feel at home. But you aren’t just revered, well-liked too. And that’s saying a lot for Carja, and even more for your stilted Nora. The Oseram loved you from the beginning, of course. That hare-brained Erend is head over heels, and Petra..?” That made me grin. Both Oseram had flirted with me quite shockingly, and on every possible and impossible occasion. The Oseram were clearly something else. Nil grinned too, shaking his head. With a small smile he continued: “There are many people who not only call you a hero but a friend. So tell me, how do the Banuk treat you?” His gesture encompassed the whole land around us. “Not nearly as friendly”, I admitted sheepishly. I was flustered by his assessment and more than a little embarrassed. I felt called out for my resentment against the Banuk who treated me so coldly, as frosty as their lands.

“I try to help, they shun me. I try to mend, they push me away. They even would rather die than let me help them!” – “They clearly don’t like meddling.” – “Yes, but if I don’t meddle, they all are going to perish! They don’t know what is set against them! They don’t understand. Ourea is the only one who listens. Why don’t they listen? I’m not even ordering them what to do!” Nil quelled his laughter quickly and asked, humor still in his eyes: “Exactly what is set against them?” – “Hephaestus. He – it - is like the thing I fought against at the Spire – a corrupted network – a hive-mind – controlling the machines and slowly conquering the Cut. It wants to wipe out all humans. The Chief wants to send more soldiers to kill it, but they can’t and won’t.” – “But you can?” – “If I cannot, no one can. Well, Sylens could, but that fucker couldn’t be arsed to raise a finger, if he can make _me_ do it. That bastard! And now he has left me completely alone; left me with so many questions. He knows so much but doesn’t share. He’s not even answering anymore. He could have gone who knows where. He could even be dead and I wouldn’t know! Not that I care. That bastard!”

Nil only seemed mildly curious about my outbreak, but I was suddenly ashamed. I should know better than cursing and venting my frustrations to a semi-stranger. “Is he a machine hunter like you?” – “No, he is much less and much more. He hunts them in a way, yes, but would never risk his own hide. He does it all from afar, like a spider weaving its net. I believe he is Banuk. He taught me a lot when it comes to machines and GAIA and her likes.” – “Gaia?” – “Another very long story.”; I shivered involuntarily, hugging myself.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re cold”, Nil observed and took my icy hands. I could not wear gloves for that would hinder the accuracy of my shot and the swiftness of my reactions. “That is only because I’m tired”, I brushed the topic off, though I was very conscious of his touch. My heart was fluttering again.

“I never thought I would say that but I would prefer even Carja desert heats over the relentless coldness of the Cut. I can’t remember when I last felt really warm.” – “Then come. I found a nice, cozy place that should interest you, being from the Old Ones.” – “Strange that you would use such words describing something that inspires only dread generally.” – “You should know by now that I fear few things.” – “So, you _are_ capable of fear? Huh! Who would have thought!” Nil shook his head, his grin sardonic, then erupting in a run: “Come, Stormbird. Don’t dally.” Off he was. I felt my frozen limps protest against their sudden movement, but soon I was on Nil’s tail again. “It’s not far”, he said, no strain whatsoever in his voice despite the fast pace, and I marveled anew about the power of my deadly companion. 

“What about the fort?”, I managed while we scurried up a steep, snowy hillside. “That scum is not likely to run. And if they do – all the better, I appreciate a little hunt.” Bemused, I shook my head. A wolfish grin on his sharp features, Nil nudged me in the side without loosing velocity. “Come now, even you can't deny loving the thrill of the hunt.” - “We hunt very different things, Nil,” I wheezed crouching low and using my hands to find purchase on the slippery slope. Nil however was lightfooted and unfazed by the terrain. He was so fast, so nimble, so resilient and strong, but at the same time not much broader than lean Avad. They were so alike in looks and stature, but where Avad was soft and rounded, Nil was hard and feral. He had the grace of a Stalker, all coiled tension – hidden underneath a layer of leisure – erupting in sudden, baffling, lightning-quick movements. Though Nil could not render himself invisible (nor did he wish to, judging by his ridiculous red-feathered rooster headdress that could be seen from miles away), he was not a jot less dangerous than the machine I compared him to. 

And as if an angry god had read my thoughts, we were ambushed by a pack of them. On our way, I had not seen much less activated one of their beacon traps, but yet, here they were, waiting for us on the hill's peak. They were corrupted ones – I wouldn’t be able to override them. I pushed Nil him out the way of the first attack, jumped into the other direction, scanning our surroundings for a level area. “Stay on the move! They shoot – “ I was interrupted by the charge of a second one, rolling out of reach, cursing my cold, slow fingers and the fact I had not brought the Lightning Spear while I fumbled for my shock arrows. How had they managed to outwit me? Had I been so smitten with Nil that I had dropped my usual caution? Were those corrupted ones even sneakier than the normal ones? “Use your bow – aim for the appendages!”, I ordered my companion while releasing my first arrow, stunning the Stalker and moving in for a heavy blow with the my lance. Three blows made short work of my foe, a satisfying crunch announcing my victory even before the sharp crackles of electricity ran through its whole body, short-circuiting the intricate inner wiring, leaving a smell of burnt electronics – I felt exhilaration and adrenaline surging in. Elation made me giddy – this was my element, this was where I belonged, where I excelled: The precise surgery, more than mindless slaughter, the search for the weakest point, the sharpest strategy an art of its own. 

A sharp shock in the back knocked me off my feet, diving face-first in the snow – probably a dart. Thank the All-Mother for my Shield-Weaver – it had prevented the dart from entering, but the force of the blow was not easily absorbed: That fucker had shot me from short range! Jumping up, groaning at the diffuse pain covering my whole backside, blinking away tears of pain and frankly, anger too, I surveyed my surroundings, but the Stalker had reverted into stealth mode. Seeking cover at its terminated sibling, tapping my focus into machine search mode, I looked for Nil who was engaged in close combat further down the hillside, often slipping in the snow, but averting vicious blows of long claws and the occasional dropped mine. Anxiety welled in my stomach - I had every trust in Nil’s prowess to kill humans effortlessly, but machines were quite a different foe. A formidable foe! But then Nil managed to pierce his opponent with a dead shot in the eye, rendering it immobile in the mid of a long jump, but was knocked off his feet by the tumbling beast and half buried beneath it when I finally spotted the third Stalker who had attacked me from behind. He was making a wide ark around me to get to vulnerable Nil. “Oh no you don't!”, I hissed while throwing myself into a mad dash down the hill, all pain forgotten, blood singing in my ears. I would not be fast enough to reach Nil first, but directly in my path lay a large rock jutting into the sky to be used as a ramp for a long jump. My leg muscles were screaming protests, my knees protesting every jarring long step down the hill, my fear for Nil who did not seem to be moving sending me into a frenzy. I had not run as fast in the Proving, and not much faster when I had escaped all of Eclipse on my tails before throwing myself down the cliff. Pure adrenaline was powering my steps now, and though it were only 50 steps or so, my heart was pumping as if I had crossed all of the Sundom in a run. When I leapt off the rock, suspended in the air, time seemed to slow, and some things suddenly became very clear: Nil's life was as important to me as mine, I would risk everything for him, I would move a mountain to protect him, I would jump from a rock for him without wondering if there would be a fifteen feet drop from it. Obviously there was. That same height difference allowed me to jump as far as the leaping Stalker's back, where with a hard, long swing of my lance and with a vengeance I landed, driving my weapon square into my foe's vulnerable neck, sending it crushing in the snowy ground. That would have been the adequate time to jump off, but unfortunately my foot had gotten stuck in one of the protruding hydraulic wires – with a sickening crunch and a deafening screech from the dying beast, I felt my foot give and was thrown off, somersaulting once, twice, thrice in the cold snow, wind knocked from my lungs, disorientation seizing me when I was surrounded by colorless icy coldness.

My head hit something hard, making me see stars.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time to write an action sequence. If it feels rushed, I did right ;) Seriously though, what did you think - was it readable?


End file.
